


personal space invader

by chronoshift



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Dubcon Cuddling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5298428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronoshift/pseuds/chronoshift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or maybe, Seungbin reasons, there is nothing wrong with wanting to touch someone you like all the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	personal space invader

**Author's Note:**

> a.) i cannot believe a “dubcon cuddling“ tag already exists  
> b.) no one from LGD read this  
> c.) set vaguely during samsung era  
> d.) THIS ONE IS FOR YOU, A
> 
> the cuddling isn't actually that dubious but there is a noncon joke so proceed with caution if that might be upsetting.

Seungbin is three sheets to the wind and halfway to four when he lets himself into Hyukkyu's hotel room, having bribed the key card out of Gwanhyung. If Cheonju had been around—and it was rare that he wasn't if there was even the chance that Seungbin could get into trouble- he probably would've intervened, or at least frowned at him in that weirdly maternal way, but he'd begged off early, following Hyukkyu and Hyungseok back up to the rooms. Without supervision, Seungbin is free to be as creepy as he desires, which is why he's now toeing off his shoes and stepping out of his jeans in a hotel room that doesn't belong to him.

He almost falls over trying to get his pants off, shoulder hitting the wall as he overcorrects himself. He should wash his face, if only to help him sober up, but without the expensive products back in his hotel room, Seungbin kind of doesn't see the point. He just wants to sleep.

Hyukkyu is curled up in a blanket burrito on the bed closest to the window air unit. For someone who looks like a particularly strong gust of air could knock him off his feet, Hyukkyu always complains about getting hot when he sleeps. Seungbin stands at the side of his bed for a long moment, watching, swaying a little bit as the soju hits his bloodstream. Asleep, Hyukkyu looks peaceful, almost inanimate. Internet commenters might think he looks like a stuffed alpaca with his long neck and eyelashes, but Seungbin thinks he looks more like a doll. Something to be propped up on a shelf where only Seungbin can touch him.

This might be the reason why Cheonju feels the need to protect Hyukkyu from Seungbin, but Hyukkyu is by far Seungbin's worst habit. Smoking might kill in thirty years, but this itch, this compulsion to find all of Hyukkyu's limits and step right over them will kill him a lot sooner. 

Or maybe, Seungbin reasons, there is nothing wrong with wanting to touch someone you like all the time.

Seungbin throws himself on the empty side of the bed, sinking into the expensive mattress. He hates the jet lag and the packing and unpacking that comes with competition travel, but hotel mattresses sure beat the hell out of his shitty Samsung bunk bed any day. Hyukkyu rolls over as the bed dips, mumbling something in his sleep.

"It's just me," Seungbin says. He scoots forward, wrapping around Hyukkyu's skinny frame until his knees hit the back of Hyukkyu's, and flings his glasses in the direction he hopes is the nightstand. 

"Go away," Hyukkyu murmurs.

Seungbin makes a scoffing noise low in his throat. His hands find their way under Hyukkyu's sleep shirt, skimming over the shallow curve of his hip to his stomach. Hyukkyu is soft where it counts- around his belly, the backs of his thighs. Seungbin's favorite places to poke and prod. "You don't mean that," Seungbin tells him.

"I'm going to call security and tell them there is a strange man in my bed."

"What makes you think," Seungbin says, brushing a thumb over Hyukkyu's nipple just to make him squirm, "that I will let you reach the phone." 

There is a long moment where Seungbin wonders if his joke crossed the line, that he might be getting a lecture from Cheonju tomorrow about respecting boundaries, but then Hyukkyu lets out a quiet little laugh, a puff of air against the pillow. 

Seungbin nudges him, a knee against the back of his thigh. "Why didn't you hang out tonight?"

"I'm tired," Hyukkyu says.

"You're always tired. You need ten hours of sleep a day like a baby."

As if on cue, Hyukkyu yawns. "So let me sleep," he whines. It's absolutely, pitifully adorable. 

"Whatever, sleeping beauty." 

It doesn't take long for Hyukkyu's breath to even out. Here, with the chemical scent of hotel shampoo filling Seungbin's nose and the steady rise and fall of Hyukkyu's diaphragm under his hand, Seungbin contemplates pressing his mouth against the jut of Hyukkyu's spine. 

He falls asleep before he gets the chance. 

When he wakes up hours later, it's to Hyukkyu slipping out of bed. The room is still a little dark, still early morning. In a rare moment of sleep-induced honesty, Seungbin mumbles, rolling over to the warm spot Hyukkyu just occupied, "Don't leave."

Everything is blurry without Seungbin's glasses, but he can see the shape of Hyukkyu paused a few feet away from the bed. "Hyung," Hyukkyu says, "I have to pee."

"Oh," Seungbin says, lamely. It could be alcohol still left in his system, or maybe the fact that he is still mostly asleep, but Seungbin feels faintly relieved. 

The room is freezing by now, also typical of Hyukkyu. Shivering, Seungbin hitches the thick hotel comforter up to his chin, already starting to doze off even though it can't possibly take Hyukkyu that long to use the bathroom. He only notices Hyukkyu's return when the corner of the comforter is tugged away from him.

"Share," Hyukkyu demands, mattress dipping as he crawls into bed. This time, Hyukkyu is the one to crowd in close. Seungbin lies still, half-asleep but distantly afraid that if he moves, he might spook Hyukkyu. This isn't usually how it goes down. Seungbin does the chasing and sometimes he's left grasping at empty air, but Hyukkyu almost always lets himself get caught. It works, mostly.

Scooting in, Hyukkyu drapes an arm over Seungbin's stomach, head slotting into the space between Seungbin's neck and shoulder. Seungbin can feel the flutter of Hyukkyu's doll eyelashes against his skin, the cold tip of his nose. He waits several long seconds, more self-control than Seungbin normally allows himself, and then lifts his arm from where it's pinned under Hyukkyu. Carefully, he threads his fingers through the longer strands of Hyukkyu's hair. 

"You're warm," Hyukkyu says. 

"I thought you wanted me to go away," Seungbin says. It feels a little dangerous, a bluff Hyukkyu could easily call him out on. 

"I lied," he murmurs, and Seungbin tucks his smile against the top of Hyukkyu's head.


End file.
